


Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

by Kyramisu



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Hitman AU, I'm Sorry, M/M, My Abel is a little sassy and I don't know why, oops I did the thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyramisu/pseuds/Kyramisu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead he scans the crowd like an innocent person would, all wide doe eyes and the wonder of a person who hasn't been to the city before. The bustling city, where a gunshot and its shooter would be better left unnoticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

"C'mon, princess, my arms are getting tired." The voice is petulant in his ear, and Abel has to remind himself to take a breath. Screaming at a voice whose form no one could see would be incredibly awkward and off-putting to those around him, and he can't jeopardize the mission. Instead he smiles, saccharine, at the people around him, like the shy little lost boy his pale skin and light hair, golden streak and all, so expertly portrays.

Instead, he whispers, "Just a little longer." The impatience of his partner may kindle intense feelings of disgust of another kind (disgust of a person, to be frank), but for the sake of their objective, he says nothing. Instead he deals with Cain's bitching through the piece in his ear. Instead he scans the crowd like an innocent person would, all wide doe eyes and the wonder of a person who hasn't been to the city before. The bustling city, where a gunshot and its shooter would be better left unnoticed.

The person wielding that gun would be a definite force to be reckoned with; if they're smart enough to do it from a distance and not in the streets, chances are they: a) know their way around a crime or b) are smart enough to know not to be an idiot. Murders are staged all the time to look like accidents, and when the police dig too deep, sometimes they find grisly things that are best left to those with the hearts and minds to handle it. Finding a sidewinder under a rock in the desert is best handled by putting it back down and backing away slowly, after all.

Cain makes another impatient sound in his ear, akin to a dog being teased with a treat - Abel pauses in his sifting through the crowd. The target has been spotted, for lack of a better term, their hit for the evening. It must be someone with influence in high places, obviously, or their 'mafia' ('agents of death', Cain had once mocked them) simply wouldn't bother unless the money offered was great - though, admittedly, if someone wants another person dead, they would definitely be willing to scrape together as much money as they could.

Still, Abel didn't know much about the client. The extent of his knowledge was the photo, defining abnormalities (eyepatch, dark hair, a round face) and his attitude - the last was described in barely-there words. "Got it," Abel murmurs, loud enough to be heard by his partner but quiet enough to be disregarded. "Ready?"

Cain's response comes with an excited exhale. "Always." With that, he walks toward his target with enough purpose to make his way through the crowd but with subtle movements in his gait that portray his 'little boy in big city' routine. It's just a routine, because Abel has seen too many things to fit the innocence of his looks. His youth is just a mask to hide all the blood on his hands.

He practically falls into his client's arms, making a (fake) surprised sound that has a dash of panic. The man starts, looking down at him, though he kneels to pick Abel up. His hands are warm through his cotton button-down shirt, and the blush on his face is not quite just embarrassment. It's a shame he has to die, for the compassion in his one eye is friendly, and his face is pleasant to look at. Cain makes a sound in his ear that seems to be territorial, and with a start he is brought back to the mission, to the life he leads, blood and violence and all.

"Are you alright?" the hit says, oblivious of the sights aimed at him from the roof of the six-story building just over. Abel smiles, staging embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess I just wasn't watching where I was going." The man smiles, relieved that he's not injured, and that's when the bullet exits his temple, the one Abel can see. His face is splattered with blood, a spray that he expects but he screams nonetheless. His dead weight rests on him, and he finds himself on the ground again.

He knows he's probably blasting Cain's eardrums out ("you scream like a goddamn girl"), but if that's what it takes to let them go, then he's _more_ than willing to take that risk.

Eventually, when they realize he's just a lost boy in a big city, the police let him go, and he returns to the hideout. The members of their "syndicate" give him a few nods as he passes them, and he turns the corner and Cain is there, dark and looming and grinning like he's woken to a puppy on Christmas morning. Abel hasn't had a chance to change out of his blood-stained shirt, but he yanks him closer regardless, sealing their lips together with a heat that makes Abel groan softly.

Cain bites, which makes Abel angry, but he seems to realize that because he pulls away. "You did good out there, princess."

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh I love AUs. And to be completely honest, I totally didn't know I was describing Praxis while writing out who they were supposed to hit. But now I feel so bad.


End file.
